


One AM Darkness

by I_Shouldnt_Be_Here



Category: Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020), Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020) RPF
Genre: 90s Bollywood, 90s Bollywood music, Aman is confident, Aman is not shy, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Chai cigarette talks, Dancing, Devika is Bhumi Pednekar for those who forgot (including me), Flirting, Kartik is a goofy ass bear, M/M, Oh my god I love Sridevi, One Shot, Slow Dancing, Slow Romance, Sridevi - Freeform, This one hits different, Use of Hinglish dialogues, hinglish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23515438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Shouldnt_Be_Here/pseuds/I_Shouldnt_Be_Here
Summary: It all began with Kartik discovering his photo on Aman's homescreen. Aman runs away after that, only to walk straight into Kartik's arms. Also, slow dancing to 90s Bollywood songs were their kind of romance.
Relationships: Kartik Singh/Aman Tripathi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This work uses a lot of Hinglish dialogues (HIndi written in the Roman script), so for those of you beautiful people who do not speak Hindi, there's chapter 2 with all dialogues written in English and songs translated. I did not want to break the flow of the story with translations, hence the compromise.

“Arre yaar, dusra chaiwala dukaan dhundna padega.” Aman says while surveying the abandoned wheeler stall.

It was a six-by-four feet platform on wheels. It housed a small kerosene stove and made the best tea in the neighbourhood. The aunty running the stall also sold cigarettes on the sly with minimal fuss.

Their gang had been visiting this place ever since first year of college. Now it was completely abandoned. And they were a couple of child-adult second year students.

“Do hafte kya nahi aaye, aunty tapri uthakey chali…” Kartik says with a pout.

“Chal koi nahi, we'll find some other place. Usse pehle, aakhri cigarette share karega?” Aman says with a conciliatory glance at Kartik. Lingering for more than a second might prove to be dangerous.

“Nahi. Mujhe apna chahiye. Pata hai ki tere paas ek se zyada hai.” 

“Oh, how so?” Aman interjects smoothly with a raised eyebrow.

“Arre kal hi mere saamne pura packet khareeda, and you’re not a chain smoker.” 

“Wah, detective Kartik ji. Mujhe to Watson banne ke laayak bhi nahi chhodey.” Aman winks.

“I don’t want you to be my Watson. You’re Aman for me. Only me.” Kartik winks back. Aman shrinks away. That was too much for him to handle.

They took the bromance a little too seriously. Those who didn’t know them probably got a little uncomfortable. And Aman knows that Kartik is a sucker for challenges. He could out-flirt any person who made the mistake of flirting with him. Also maybe pull their heart and soul deep into his puppy dog eyes. 

That was what had exactly happened to Aman Tripathi.

Unrequited or otherwise.  _ Should he hope for 'otherwise'…? _

God knows how many women he has unknowingly charmed. Though he did not do that with the guys. Only with Aman.

_ I’m the only one who tolerates this. Other guys wouldn’t have hesitated to break his jaw _ . Aman reassures himself.

“Arey kho gayei kya… cigarette de na.” Kartik snaps his fingers and stares deep into his eyes. 

Aman was woken up from his zoning-out session by a pair of deep brown, deep set eyes. And the fact that one eyelash was sticking straight up over his left eye, rather than curving gracefully downward like the rest.

What. A. Rebel.

That eyelash probably saved him from blushing. Pushing his emotions aside, he shoved Kartik's shoulders. And stared deep into his eyes.

“Yeh thoda zyada nahi ho gaya? Wo 'You're Aman only for me' wali baat?” He channels his inner flirt. Now it’s Kartik's time to blush.

_ Goddamnit Aman, where the fuck are you getting this confidence from? _

“Oye, I didn’t know you were that sensitive over sharing cigarettes.” He slaps Aman's arm lightly.

Aman wins this round. A rare occasion.

He hands over a cigarette to Kartik, who asks for a lighter without words. As his hand cups the lighter flame, his face turns a beautiful shade of golden yellow. That silver nose ring catches the light and throws it back into Kartik’s eyes, and maybe into Aman's heart.

Warmth travels through Aman, certainly not because of the lighter flame.

This is a moment he’ll remember. 

Kartik turns away from him, staring into the one am darkness. As dark as it gets in a city anyway. One can’t seem to escape the lights here. Yellow sodium-vapour lamplight lights up a footpath some distance away. 

The dark tobacco stains on the bottom of the street lamp appear almost black, as if somebody spat tar instead.

During this extended reverie, Aman takes his phone out and snaps a picture. He’ll deal with the consequences later.

“Saaley kya kar raha hai?” Kartik interjects a split second later after the deafening 'click' of the shutter.

“None of your business.” 

“Mujhe attitude dega? Chal dikhata hun kisey bolte hai attitude.” Kartik throws the cigarette away and playfully runs after Aman.

...

Aman huffs and pants all the ways to the hostel. Kartik catches up to him with barely a quickened breath. Curse his short legs. 

“Mujhe ‘none of your business' bolega bey…” He catches Aman in a tight backward embrace and punches his arms lightly many times. Then he turns forward and breaks into a big smile. 

Kartik’s hand lingers on Aman's arm and he runs it up and down slowly.

Now he goes down, down and down all the way to his hand, which he slowly grips like he’s the prince asking Cinderella for a dance.

_ Arre jaan hi kyun nahi le lete? _ Aman thinks.

Kartik raises Aman's hand to his lips and gently kisses his knuckles. 

One.

By.

One.

His eyes go wide in surprise. First his eyes flit about to see whether the hostel warden or anybody else was nearby. Next he checks for any security cameras. None.

During this period while his eyes skittered, Kartik’s eyes lose their desire-laced edge. 

He looks sadly at Aman and departs for his room. Without glancing back at him even once.

For the first time in his life, Aman walked home to the sound of his heart shattering.

He cried himself to sleep that night.

…

A few days later, when conversations were being re-established both personally and over text, Aman Tripathi found himself visiting his phone’s picture gallery.

He had never looked back at the photo he had taken of Kartik. He did not have high hopes for a good photo, since Kartik had started chasing him after a split second. Yes, Kartik Singh, the flamboyant, self-assured, articulate, confident, wonderful, gay boy was camera shy.

What stared back transported him right back to that moment.

It was a wonderful picture. The lighter flame looked particularly  _ sexy _ on Kartik’s face. The glowing orange cigarette end stood out like a beacon. His lips looked incredibly kissable.

And of course it sent his heart on an unplanned rollercoaster ride. He wanted to stare at that picture forever, kiss it, take it out on a date, make love to it, marry it and have children with it. 

They could never make sense of what exactly was between them. A year had passed without either of them making a move. Aman knew Kartik was gay, Kartik knew Aman was bisexual. 

The romance was back and forth, hot and cold between them. Neither had a boyfriend (or girlfriend in Aman's case) because they didn’t find any other person desirable in the same way that they found each other. They flirted, but it was almost a game.

They had grown attached to this comfortable pain, which is so common among gay people. Especially in a place like India, where it is often impossible to find people interested in dating someone of the same sex. Even if luckily you found someone, after some time you find that you dated them simply because they were gay. And often only that did not guarantee the understanding or emotional involvement required in a relationship.

So Aman did what he always does. He somehow managed to make the pain sharper and sweeter.

_ Set image as home screen wallpaper _

…

“Ae kidhar jaa rahe ho? Ruko na…” Kartik shouts back and Aman picks up his pace. Walking faster, he hides between the tall shelves of the library. Who said there were no advantages of being short?

He peeked around and saw Kartik walking zig zag between the shelves in search of him.

His head bobbed in between each shelf and honest to god he looked like a mother duck. So cute.

He made the mistake of peeking too far out. His heartbeat quickened when he saw Kartik approaching him. He turned around.

Only to realise it was a dead end. The white wall never looked more traitorous.

“Ab kaha jaoge?” Kartik said coquettishly. He gently grabbed Aman’s shoulders and turned him around. Aman felt small, sharp tingles originating from his biceps straight into the chest area. He placed his hands on Aman’s waist, which made things worse for his heart which was already palpitating hard enough.

They were at the end of the library, and no cameras were around this spot. He stared at Kartik’s neck, which was  _ obscenely  _ close. 

“Tera phone de na… Please. I forgot mine in the hostel. I need to make an urgent call.” Kartik defuses the tension with this request. 

“Abey aaj kal bina  _ phone _ ke kaun nikalta hai, kuttey?”

“You know me.” He covers his irresponsibility with a disarming smile.

“Aur kise phone karega? Itna urgent?” 

“Devika ko. Important hai.” 

“Okay.”

Aman directly opens the keypad from his lock screen, enters Devika's number and pushes the phone to Kartik’s ear.

_ And this, is how it all went downhill. If our protagonist hadn’t made the mistake of opening the keypad directly, things would have been different. _

While Kartik goes off some distance away to speak without being overheard, Aman stares lovingly at him but he gets this sickening feeling that something is definitely wrong.

“Okay bye Devika, baad me dekhte hai.” Kartik approaches Aman with a surprised expression on his face.

And Kartik cuts the call.

“Tere homescreen pe meri photo kyun hai?” Kartik asks sheepishly, almost as if the roles were reversed.

_ Holy shit. Saala iktarfaa dramebaaz aashiq banne ki yahi keemat hai.  _ The thoughts travel through Aman’s head like a wildfire.

He snatches the phone from Kartik in one fell swoop, dumps it in his pocket and covers face with his hands. The dead end would not let him run, so this was the best option. At least he was glad that his dusky skin didn’t blush easily.

“Ab bhaagne nahi dunga. Chal bata kyun.” Kartik sing songs and pries Aman's hands away from his face, facing some resistance. He doesn’t let go.

“Arre lighting bahut acchi thi, thoda photography me bhi interest hai, accha lag raha tha isiliye homescreen par laga diya.” Aman turns his head downward, stares intensely into the patch on his shoulder bag strap which had 'LOVE' written on it in rainbow sequins, and bluffs shamelessly.

Irony, served at its best.

He raises his head up and physically sees the glint fading from Kartik’s eyes. 

“Okay.” He puts an arm around Aman’s shoulder and walks in step with him out of the library. 

Kartik looks like a puppy. And Aman feels like he was the one who kicked it.

…

_ Kya karte thhe saajna  _

_ Tum humse duur reh ke? _

_ Hum toh judaai me akele _

_ Chhup chhup ke rouya karte thhe. _

That would have been Kartik’s song as he parted ways with Aman from the library.

…

“Life me itna confusion 12 th ka physics paper dekh kar bhi nahi aaya.” Kartik interjects.

“Hey, at least it’s over, right?”

“Abhi toh sirf pehla semester hua, iske baad dekhna kaise humari keh ke lete hai.” 

“Oye, itna drama mat kar.”

“What are you saying? I am Made. Of. Drama.” Kartik looks offended, expression growing more ridiculous at each unnecessary full stop. Aman just  _ has _ to crack a smile at that.

“Chal mere room me gaane bajatey hai. Tension duur ho jayega.”

This was an old ritual of theirs, ever since they discovered that both liked old Bollywood music. The anime songs, rock bands and indie artists were there in their playlists only to earn the 'good taste' label from their friends. One had to keep up appearances.

Many songs later, they are tired of dancing. Especially 'Yaar bina chain kaha re'. The pair had their own fucking routine for that song. Only if someone financed those shiny golden silver disco costumes.

“Put on something slow.” Kartik demands.

Aman takes some time to think. 

“Details bata na. Sweet and kind of innocent? Ya slow dance sexy?”

“Kuch bhi laga de yaar.” Kartik deliberately doesn’t take the ‘slow-dance sexy' bait. Aman's joy falters a little, but now he had finally figured out what would fit.

_ Ghazab ka hai din _

_ Socho zaraa _

_ Yeh deewanapan _

_ Dekho zaraa _

_ Tum ho akele  _

_ Hum bhi akele _

_ Mazaa aa raha hai _

_ Kasam se… Kasam se… _

Kartik’s eyes immediately brighten. He channels his inner innocent flirt Juhi Chawla. And he is determined to make Aman his Aamir Khan.

He pauses the song, grabs a bedsheet and fashions it into a sari for himself. Getting into character is important! Now if only the bedsheet was red and yellow coloured and there were a few (no, many) trees around…

“Kya kar raha hai?” Aman asks, a little giggle-drunk.

“Character mei toh ghusne dey.” 

“Yaar bina chain kaha re ka dance routine kaafi nahi tha kya?” He smiles.

“Of course not, you know I take my characters seriously…” Kartik tries to sound snobbish, art-film director level snobbish. Aman laughs.

He presses play and the show starts. Kartik flirts innocently with Aman, tugs on his t shirt, swings his arms around, pouts petulantly and bites his lips childishly. All in perfect lip sync.

Aman tries his best to get into the role of 'reluctant lover Aamir Khan', which by all means is very easy for him to pull off. He puts on his best ' _ fucking lord help me, there’s the whole cheese factory dancing in front of me _ ' face and pulls Kartik’s arm in much the same way a mom would, taking their reluctant kid away from the playground.

In the last minute of the song, there’s a complete change of mood. The boy sheds his inhibitions and reciprocates.

_ Kya kahun _

_ Mera jo haal hai _

_ Raat din  _

_ Tumhara khayaal hai _

Aman leans towards him, and lip syncs the words starting straight into Kartik’s eyes. Height difference be damned, this moment is  _ beautiful _ .

_ One look at Aman’s expressive eyes, and Kartik is ready to forget himself completely. Kissing him on the lips would probably earn him a kick, so he resists.  _

So he kisses Aman on the cheeks in the sweetest way possible. The song ends, and Aman looks at him with a wounded, surprised look.

_ Iss baar dil mat todna please…  _ Kartik thinks.

“Aise hi… aise hi flirt karte karte kiss kyu kiya?” Aman asks, haltingly.

“Honesty ke liye taiyaar hai?”

“Yes.” A decisive answer. Aman gulps.

“Main tumse bahut pyaar karta hoon. Itney  _ mahiney _ wait kiya, tere mixed signals ke wajah se apna dil dukhaya, uss raat  _ haath _ pakad ke itna bhari flirt kiya, mujhe pata hai ki tu bisexual hai, tujhe pata hai ki main gay hoon, abhi bhi ye sab  _ friendship _ lag raha hai kya?” Kartik blurts.

“Toh phir, iska matlab wahi hai?” Aman asks with wide eyes. No, he can’t allow himself to hope that much yet.

“Nahi toh kya? Aisa friendship dekha hai kahi? Especially ladkon mein? Koi bhi ladka mere jaise walking gay stereotype ke saath yeh sab karega kya?” Kartik asks, voice burdened with self-deprecation.

“Accha, aisa hai…Aur ye baat yaad rakhna, tu walking gay stereotype nahi hai. Jaisa hai, mere liye accha hai. Duniya jaaye bhaad me.” 

“Self-confidence boost ke liye thanks, but my point is getting lost here.”

“Kaunsa point?” Aman asks with a half smile.

“Saaley, itna bhi oblivious tu nahi hai… Ab kiss karne dega kya? Only if you want to of course…” Kartik asks, vulnerability shining through his words. And in that moment, Aman Tripathi had not seen a more beautiful person on the whole planet. Even more than Sridevi.

“Theek hai, de diya green signal.” Aman winks.

Kartik pulled him close, wrapped his arms around and kissed him on the lips. 

“Bas itna hi? Darr lag raha tha kya?”

“Shut. Up. Itna bakwaas kyu karta hai?” Kartik blushed. Honest to god he actually  _ blushed. _

Aman went closer this time and now it was a full blown kiss. He aligned his lips with Kartik’s and that was enough to make him feel  _ teeth. _

“Abey angle galat hai.” Kartik almost laughs. 

“Oye!”

Kartik leads him, trying to find an ideal position. Once their faces went diagonal correctly, it was enough to make Aman forget everything. He felt rushes of chemicals, sparks and magic through every inch of his body, originating from his lips. They continued kissing until both ran out of air. Then it started again for a second, third, fourth and fifth time, each time better than the last.

He was tightly wrapped around Kartik, feeling as if the world began and ended in his arms. Maybe it did.

For Kartik, the feeling was mostly magic and long-delayed release. The sparks coursing through him set him on fire. He disengaged from Aman’s lips and kissed his neck. Aman tilted his head and allowed him to do so. Kartik licked the area between his ear and jaw, and  _ felt  _ the quivering breath that Aman released. He kissed down lower and lower, making Aman swoon. Aman released a soft sigh in conclusion.

“Main bhi tumse bahut pyaar karta hoon.” Aman said.

After that he kissed him on the lips and on the forehead. Aman looked up at him with pure adoration glowing in his extremely expressive eyes. Sure, Aman hid a lot from the world, after all he did kind of fit into the 'straight looking, emotionally distant queer man stereotype' but most of the time his eyes gave away a lot of the story. Fuck those stereotypes anyway. Why was he thinking about them when he had this beautiful person in his arms?

Aman was correct, his mind ran at about a thousand kilometres per second.

“Kaisa laga?” Kartik asks.

“It was alright.” Kartik can see the cheek in Aman's eyes.

“Only alright?” 

“Arre, it will get better with practice.” And Aman pulls him into a kiss again.

And an eternity passes. 

…

After Kartik became his boyfriend, (that fact was still unbelievable for Aman), he seemed to become more awkward than flirty. It wasn’t surprising to find him tripping over or getting tongue tied whenever Aman came near him.

Once he tried holding Kartik’s hand under the plastic cafeteria table and a split second later his spoon fell down to splash daal all over it.

…

Aman thought that the attraction would fade away after a few months, because on the surface both of them seemed  _ too different _ for each other. Later he found out that Kartik thought the same. This lead to an evening of conversation reminiscing about their romance.

“Arre tuney jaan bujh kar mere bag se jacket nikaala tha?” Aman asks, referring to a movie hall visit. He always packed a thin jacket with him, as those places often got chilly.

“Haan, mujhe dekhna tha ki tum mere jacket me kaise lagte ho… I swear I could have kissed you at that moment. Itne cute lag rahe thhe.”

“Aww. Very sweet. Hmpf.” Aman turns away with a sour face.

“Bura mat mano yaar… I had a crush on you since a very long time.” He gently turns Aman’s face towards himself, first facing some resistance but then Aman conceded.

“Itna flirt kiya mere saath, phir bhi itne mahiney kyu wait kiya?” Kartik asks him.

“Oye, I could say the same for you. Iss baat ko rehne dete hai. Hum dono ki bewakoofi ke aur zyada examples mujhe nahi chahiye…” 

“Pehli baar jab mujhe kiss kiya, sharmaa rahe thhe kya? Aman asks with a mischievous smile.

“Arre, pata hai na,  _ first _ kiss from a potential lover par kitna pressure rehta hai, har movie me dikhate hai ki sab kuch ekdum perfect hota hai…”

“Tch, tujhe pata hai ki sab perfect nahi hota hai…”

“Tab pata nahi tha… Lekin ab mujhe perfection ki nahi, sirf tumhari zaroorat hai.” Kartik gives him literal heart eyes.

“Arre, sirf mere saath hi aisi flirting karte ho ya do-chaar aur ladke line mei khadey hain?” Aman asks.

“Nahi, Sridevi ki kasam.” Kartik replies earnestly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the work fully translated in English!

“Hey, we'll need to find another tea stall.” Aman says while surveying the abandoned wheeler stall.

It was a six-by-four feet platform on wheels. It housed a small kerosene stove and made the best tea in the neighbourhood. The aunty running the stall also sold cigarettes on the sly with minimal fuss.

Their gang had been visiting this place ever since first year of college. Now it was completely abandoned. And they were a couple of child-adult second year students.

“Didn't come here for two weeks, now it's gone…” Kartik says with a pout.

“Nevermind, we'll find some other place. Before that, you want to share the last cigarette with me?” Aman says with a conciliatory glance at Kartik. Lingering for more than a second might prove to be dangerous.

“No, I want one of my own. I know you've got more.” 

“Oh, how so?” Aman interjects smoothly with a raised eyebrow.

“Yesterday you bought a whole packet, and you’re not a chain smoker.” 

“Great, Detective Kartik. Your skills leave me in the dust. This lowly Watson appreciates it.” Aman winks.

“I don’t want you to be my Watson. You’re Aman for me. Only me.” Kartik winks back. Aman shrinks away. That was too much for him to handle.

They took the bromance a little too seriously. Those who didn’t know them probably got a little uncomfortable. And Aman knows that Kartik is a sucker for challenges. He could out-flirt any person who made the mistake of flirting with him. Also maybe pull their heart and soul deep into his puppy dog eyes. 

That was what had exactly happened to Aman Tripathi.

Unrequited or otherwise.  _ Should he hope for 'otherwise'…? _

God knows how many women he has unknowingly charmed. Though he did not do that with the guys. Only with Aman.

_ I’m the only one who tolerates this. Other guys wouldn’t have hesitated to break his jaw _ . Aman reassures himself.

“Hey, are you lost somewhere... Give me the cigarette.” Kartik snaps his fingers and stares deep into his eyes. 

Aman was woken up from his zoning-out session by a pair of deep brown, deep set eyes. And the fact that one eyelash was sticking straight up over his left eye, rather than curving gracefully downward like the rest.

What. A. Rebel.

That eyelash probably saved him from blushing. Pushing his emotions aside, he shoved Kartik's shoulders. And stared deep into his eyes.

“Isn't this a bit too much? 'You're Aman only for me', that thing?” He channels his inner flirt. Now it’s Kartik's time to blush.

_ Goddamnit Aman, where the fuck are you getting this confidence from? _

“Hey, I didn’t know you were that sensitive over sharing cigarettes.” He slaps Aman's arm lightly.

Aman wins this round. A rare occasion.

He hands over a cigarette to Kartik, who asks for a lighter without words. As his hand cups the lighter flame, his face turns a beautiful shade of golden yellow. That silver nose ring catches the light and throws it back into Kartik’s eyes, and maybe into Aman's heart.

Warmth travels through Aman, certainly not because of the lighter flame.

This is a moment he’ll remember. 

Kartik turns away from him, staring into the one am darkness. As dark as it gets in a city anyway. One can’t seem to escape the lights here. Yellow sodium-vapour lamplight lights up a footpath some distance away. 

The dark tobacco stains on the bottom of the street lamp appear almost black, as if somebody spat tar instead.

During this extended reverie, Aman takes his phone out and snaps a picture. He’ll deal with the consequences later.

“What the fuck did you do?” Kartik interjects a split second later after the deafening 'click' of the shutter.

“None of your business.” 

“Don't give me that cheek, Miss Impertinent.” Kartik throws the cigarette away and playfully runs after Aman.

...

Aman huffs and pants all the ways to the hostel. Kartik catches up to him with barely a quickened breath. Curse his short legs. 

“I'll show you what 'cheek' is…” He catches Aman in a tight backward embrace and punches his arms lightly many times. Then he turns forward and breaks into a big smile. 

Kartik’s hand lingers on Aman's arm and he runs it up and down slowly.

Now he goes down, down and down all the way to his hand, which he slowly grips like he’s the prince asking Cinderella for a dance.

_ Just fucking kill me, why don't you? _ Aman thinks.

Kartik raises Aman's hand to his lips and gently kisses his knuckles. 

One.

By.

One.

His eyes go wide in surprise. First his eyes flit about to see whether the hostel warden or anybody else was nearby. Next he checks for any security cameras. None.

During this period while his eyes skittered, Kartik’s eyes lose their desire-laced edge. 

He looks sadly at Aman and departs for his room. Without glancing back at him even once.

For the first time in his life, Aman walked home to the sound of his heart shattering.

He cried himself to sleep that night.

…

A few days later, when conversations were being re-established both personally and over text, Aman Tripathi found himself visiting his phone’s picture gallery.

He had never looked back at the photo he had taken of Kartik. He did not have high hopes for a good photo, since Kartik had started chasing him after a split second. Yes, Kartik Singh, the flamboyant, self-assured, articulate, confident, wonderful, gay boy was camera shy.

What stared back transported him right back to that moment.

It was a wonderful picture. The lighter flame looked particularly  _ sexy _ on Kartik’s face. The glowing orange cigarette end stood out like a beacon. His lips looked incredibly kissable.

And of course it sent his heart on an unplanned rollercoaster ride. He wanted to stare at that picture forever, kiss it, take it out on a date, make love to it, marry it and have children with it. 

They could never make sense of what exactly was between them. A year had passed without either of them making a move. Aman knew Kartik was gay, Kartik knew Aman was bisexual. 

The romance was back and forth, hot and cold between them. Neither had a boyfriend (or girlfriend in Aman's case) because they didn’t find any other person desirable in the same way that they found each other. They flirted, but it was almost a game.

They had grown attached to this comfortable pain, which is so common among gay people. Especially in a place like India, where it is often impossible to find people interested in dating someone of the same sex. Even if luckily you found someone, after some time you find that you dated them simply because they were gay. And often only that did not guarantee the understanding or emotional involvement required in a relationship.

So Aman did what he always does. He somehow managed to make the pain sharper and sweeter.

_ Set image as home screen wallpaper _

…

“Where are you off to? Wait for me...” Kartik shouts back and Aman picks up his pace. Walking faster, he hides between the tall shelves of the library. Who said there were no advantages of being short?

He peeked around and saw Kartik walking zig zag between the shelves in search of him.

His head bobbed in between each shelf and honest to god he looked like a mother duck. So cute.

He made the mistake of peeking too far out. His heartbeat quickened when he saw Kartik approaching him. He turned around.

Only to realise it was a dead end. The white wall never looked more traitorous.

“Dead end, fucker.” Kartik said coquettishly. He gently grabbed Aman’s shoulders and turned him around. Aman felt small, sharp tingles originating from his biceps straight into the chest area. He placed his hands on Aman’s waist, which made things worse for his heart which was already palpitating hard enough.

They were at the end of the library, and no cameras were around this spot. He stared at Kartik’s neck, which was  _ obscenely  _ close. 

“Give me your phone please... I forgot mine in the hostel. I need to make an urgent call.” Kartik defuses the tension with this request. 

“Who the hell steps outside in this day and age without their fucking _phone_ ?”

“You know me.” He covers his irresponsibility with a disarming smile.

“And who will you call? That too so urgently?” 

“Devika. It's important.” 

“Okay.”

Aman directly opens the keypad from his lock screen, enters Devika's number and pushes the phone to Kartik’s ear.

_ And this, is how it all went downhill. If our protagonist hadn’t made the mistake of opening the keypad directly, things would have been different. _

While Kartik goes off some distance away to speak without being overheard, Aman stares lovingly at him but he gets this sickening feeling that something is definitely wrong.

“Okay bye Devika, I'll talk to you later.” Kartik approaches Aman with a surprised expression on his face.

And Kartik cuts the call.

“What is _my_ picture doing on _your_ homescreen?” Kartik asks sheepishly, almost as if the roles were reversed.

_ Holy shit. This is the price I pay for being a lovesick idiot.  _ The thoughts travel through Aman’s head like a wildfire.

He snatches the phone from Kartik in one fell swoop, dumps it in his pocket and covers face with his hands. The dead end would not let him run, so this was the best option. At least he was glad that his dusky skin didn’t blush easily.

“Now where will you run off to? Tell me why.” Kartik sing songs and pries Aman's hands away from his face, facing some resistance. He doesn’t let go.

“The lighting was good, I was interested in photography and I really liked that picture. So I put it on my homescreen.” Aman turns his head downward, stares intensely into the patch on his shoulder bag strap which had 'LOVE' written on it in rainbow sequins, and bluffs shamelessly.

Irony, served at its best.

He raises his head up and physically sees the glint fading from Kartik’s eyes. 

“Okay.” He puts an arm around Aman’s shoulder and walks in step with him out of the library. 

Kartik looks like a puppy. And Aman feels like he was the one who kicked it.

…

_ Kya karte thhe saajna  _

_ Tum humse duur reh ke? _

_ Hum toh judaai me akele _

_ Chhup chhup ke rouya karte thhe. _

_ What did you do, my love _

_ While you were away from me? _

_ In my separation and solitude _

_ I hid myself and wept. _

That would have been Kartik’s song as he parted ways with Aman from the library.

…

“Honestly, I haven't been _that_ confused even during my 12th grade physics finals .” Kartik interjects.

“Hey, at least it’s over, right?”

“It's only the first semester, after that just see _how_ they screw us over in style.” Kartik says pessimistically.

“You're clearly exaggerating.”

“What are you saying? I am Made. Of. Drama.” Kartik looks offended, expression growing more ridiculous at each unnecessary full stop. Aman just  _ has _ to crack a smile at that.

“Let's go and dance to some songs in my room. You'll feel better.”

This was an old ritual of theirs, ever since they discovered that both liked old Bollywood music. The anime songs, rock bands and indie artists were there in their playlists only to earn the 'good taste' label from their friends. One had to keep up appearances.

Many songs later, they are tired of dancing. Especially 'Yaar bina chain kaha re' (What is life without a lover?). The pair had their own fucking routine for that song. Only if someone financed those shiny golden silver disco costumes.

“Put on something slow.” Kartik demands.

Aman takes some time to think. 

“Be a little specific. Sweet and kind of innocent? Or slow dance sexy?”

“Anything will do.” Kartik deliberately doesn’t take the ‘slow-dance sexy' bait. Aman's joy falters a little, but now he had finally figured out what would fit.

_ Ghazab ka hai din _

_ Socho zaraa _

_ Yeh deewanapan _

_ Dekho zaraa _

_ Tum ho akele  _

_ Hum bhi akele _

_ Mazaa aa raha hai _

_ Kasam se… Kasam se… _

_ It's a wonderful day _

_ Let's  _ _reflect_

_ This love-drunken self _

_ i give to you _

_ We are alone  _ _together_

_ And having the time of our lives _

_ i promise...I promise. _

Kartik’s eyes immediately brighten. He channels his inner innocent flirt Juhi Chawla. And he is determined to make Aman his Aamir Khan.

He pauses the song, grabs a bedsheet and fashions it into a sari for himself. Getting into character is important! Now if only the bedsheet was red and yellow coloured and there were a few (no, many) trees around…

"What are you up to?” Aman asks, a little giggle-drunk.

“I need to get in character, darling.” 

“Wasn't the dance routine for yaar bina chain kaha re enough?” He smiles.

“Of course not, you know I take my characters seriously…” Kartik tries to sound snobbish, art-film director level snobbish. Aman laughs.

He presses play and the show starts. Kartik flirts innocently with Aman, tugs on his t shirt, swings his arms around, pouts petulantly and bites his lips childishly. All in perfect lip sync.

Aman tries his best to get into the role of 'reluctant lover Aamir Khan', which by all means is very easy for him to pull off. He puts on his best ' _ fucking lord help me, there’s the whole cheese factory dancing in front of me _ ' face and pulls Kartik’s arm in much the same way a mom would, taking their reluctant kid away from the playground.

In the last minute of the song, there’s a complete change of mood. The boy sheds his inhibitions and reciprocates.

_ Kya kahun _

_ Mera jo haal hai _

_ Raat din  _

_ Tumhara khayaal hai _

_ What do i say _

_ Of my condition? _

_ All day and all night _

_ Your name is on my lips. _

Aman leans towards him, and lip syncs the words starting straight into Kartik’s eyes. Height difference be damned, this moment is  _ beautiful _ .

_ One look at Aman’s expressive eyes, and Kartik is ready to forget himself completely. Kissing him on the lips would probably earn him a kick, so he resists.  _

So he kisses Aman on the cheeks in the sweetest way possible. The song ends, and Aman looks at him with a wounded, surprised look.

_ Don't break my heart this time please…  _ Kartik thinks.

“I thought... I thought the flirting was casual, you kissed me like that?” Aman asks, haltingly.

“Up for some honesty?”

“Yes.” A decisive answer. Aman gulps.

“I like you a fucking lot. I wait for so many months , got myself hurt because of your mixed signals, even held you hand and kissed it that day , I know that you're bisexual, you know that I'm gay, even now you think that this is _friendship_ ?” Kartik blurts.

“Are you saying what I think you're saying?” Aman asks with wide eyes. No, he can’t allow himself to hope that much yet.

“Otherwise what is the alternative? Have you ever had friendship of this kind? Especially among guys? Will any guy do all this with a walking gay stereotype like me?” Kartik asks, voice burdened with self-deprecation.

“So this is the case…And remember, you're not a walking gay stereotype. The way you are, that is perfect for me. Let the rest of the world go to hell.” 

“Thanks for the self-confidence boost, but my point is getting lost here.”

“Which point exactly?” Aman asks with a half smile.

“Fucking lord, please tel me you're not that oblivious… Now will you let me kiss you? Only if you want to of course…” Kartik asks, vulnerability shining through his words. And in that moment, Aman Tripathi had not seen a more beautiful person on the whole planet. Even more than Sridevi.

“Okay.” Aman winks.

Kartik pulled him close, wrapped his arms around and kissed him on the lips. 

“Only this much? Scared of me or what?”

“Shut. Up. Why do you spout so much bullshit?” Kartik blushed. Honest to god he actually  _ blushed. _

Aman went closer this time and now it was a full blown kiss. He aligned his lips with Kartik’s and that was enough to make him feel  _ teeth. _

“Fuck, the angle is wrong.” Kartik almost laughs. 

“Hey!”

Kartik leads him, trying to find an ideal position. Once their faces went diagonal correctly, it was enough to make Aman forget everything. He felt rushes of chemicals, sparks and magic through every inch of his body, originating from his lips. They continued kissing until both ran out of air. Then it started again for a second, third, fourth and fifth time, each time better than the last.

He was tightly wrapped around Kartik, feeling as if the world began and ended in his arms. Maybe it did.

For Kartik, the feeling was mostly magic and long-delayed release. The sparks coursing through him set him on fire. He disengaged from Aman’s lips and kissed his neck. Aman tilted his head and allowed him to do so. Kartik licked the area between his ear and jaw, and  _ felt  _ the quivering breath that Aman released. He kissed down lower and lower, making Aman swoon. Aman released a soft sigh in conclusion.

“Even I like you a fucking lot.” Aman said.

After that he kissed him on the lips and on the forehead. Aman looked up at him with pure adoration glowing in his extremely expressive eyes. Sure, Aman hid a lot from the world, after all he did kind of fit into the 'straight looking, emotionally distant queer man stereotype' but most of the time his eyes gave away a lot of the story. Fuck those stereotypes anyway. Why was he thinking about them when he had this beautiful person in his arms?

Aman was correct, his mind ran at about a thousand kilometres per second.

“How was it?” Kartik asks.

“It was alright.” Kartik can see the cheek in Aman's eyes.

“Only alright?” 

“Dude, it will get better with practice.” And Aman pulls him into a kiss again.

And an eternity passes. 

…

After Kartik became his boyfriend, (that fact was still unbelievable for Aman), he seemed to become more awkward than flirty. It wasn’t surprising to find him tripping over or getting tongue tied whenever Aman came near him.

Once he tried holding Kartik’s hand under the plastic cafeteria table and a split second later his spoon fell down to splash daal all over it.

…

Aman thought that the attraction would fade away after a few months, because on the surface both of them seemed  _ too different _ for each other. Later he found out that Kartik thought the same. This lead to an evening of conversation reminiscing about their romance.

“So you took the jacket out of my bag on purpose?” Aman asks, referring to a movie hall visit. He always packed a thin jacket with him, as those places often got chilly.

“Yeah, I needed to see how you looked in my clothes…You looked so bloody cute. I swear I could have kissed you at that moment.”

“Aww. Very sweet. Hmpf.” Aman turns away with a sour face.

“Don't feel so bad… I had a crush on you since a very long time.” He gently turns Aman’s face towards himself, first facing some resistance but then Aman conceded.

“You flired a lot as well, why did you wait for so long?” Kartik asks him.

“Hey, I could say the same for you. Let's never bring this up again. I don't want more examples of our idiocy…” 

“Why were you so damn shy when you kissed me for the first time? Aman asks with a mischievous smile.

“You know,  _ first _ kiss from a potential lover... How everything is so perfect, I felt the pressure building up on me.”

“Tch, you know that everything isn't perfect…”

“At that time I did not know… But now I'm certain that I don't need perfection, I only need you.” Kartik gives him literal heart eyes.

“You flirt only with me this way or should I expect a few more boys in line?” Aman asks.

“No. I swear upon Sridevi's grave.” Kartik replies earnestly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! I did not translate the songs literally (that would have been another Google Translate fail) but I tried to preserve their meaning.  
> Have a good morning/afternoon/evening/night. I hope you're safe and happy.  
> Kudos and comments make my day!  
> -Adv

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Sridevi is a Bollywood actress of the 90s era, who is especially popular among Indian queer people who grew up in the 90s. She was precious for the queer babies, who were barely given any kind of representation in 90s Bollywood films. A queer icon, I swear.  
> Watch the video for her song 'hawa hawai', you'll understand.  
> Kartik's rainbow sequin 'LOVE' shoulder bag is found in the video of 'Mere Liye Tum Kaafi Ho' (You are enough for me), an original song from Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan  
> The song in the middle, where Kartik walks away from Aman is 'Kya Karte Thhe Saajna' (What did you do, my love?), also found in this film's soundtrack.  
> The song to which they both dance to is 'Gazab Ka Hai Din' (It's a wonderful day) from the movie Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak.  
> How was the story?  
> Goodmorning/evening/afternoon/night and I hope you are safe and happy.  
> Kudos and comments make my day!  
> -Adv


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